Being a Ravenclaw
by parapacal
Summary: Four years ago I met Harry Potter on the Hogwarts Express. Four years ago Harry Potter and I became friends. Four years ago I was sorted into Ravenclaw. This year, things changed.
1. Chapter 1

I first met Harry Potter on the train to Hogwarts our first year. I had survived the brick wall that transported me to Platform 9¾ and said goodbye to my parents. Finding a seat was a challenge. All of a sudden I was met with older kids I couldn't sit with, peers that didn't want to sit next to me, and kids I didn't want to sit with. Exasperated, I tugged open the nearest compartment door and sat down, not caring who was in the compartment with me. Boy was I in for a surprise.

I didn't make eye contact with either of the boys for a while; I just pretended to be interested in the fabric of my seat. They were having a lively discussion about Muggles, and I pretended not to hear them. It wasn't until the train actually started moving that I realized maybe I as well ought to make friends.

"'Ello," I said braver than I felt.

"Hi," the darker-haired one replied.

"It speaks!" exclaimed the Ginger.

"What're your names?" I tried to be polite.

They told me their names; I goggled over Harry. The rest of the train ride went as the three of us became friends. I guess the only sad part of the day was when I was sorted into Ravenclaw and them into Gryffindor. I gave them a melancholic look and walked to my corresponding table.

Despite this, we've been friends ever since.


	2. Chapter 2

The Quidditch World Cup: the sporting event that brings the whole Wizarding World together. Thousands of people came ; my family was no exception. On behalf of the Ministry of Magic, we came with the Weasleys since they were our hosts during our time in England; we lived in America. I lay on the floor of Ginny Weasley's room with Hermione Granger, who I'd come to befriend in the recent years. The sun had set hours ago, and Harry was coming tomorrow. I could hear my parents downstairs talking to the Weasleys about Muggle stuff since we lived among them in America and adopted their ways. My parents thought it was the least we could do to blend in.

My father was a representative of the Ministry of Magic for America. He ran the outreach branch of the Ministry in New York City. My mother had the same job. When I was eight, my parents told me the new= and we packed up and traveled to America, a country I was not familiar with whatsoever.

The faint clank of pans suggested that Molly Weasley was washing the dishes, and I fell asleep to the faint creaking of The Burrow.

The next day was hectic as Ron, Fred, and George were bristling with excitement over the arrival of Harry in just a few hours. Half-asleep, I trudged downstairs and sat down at the table. Charlie was down, reading the Daily Prophet, Percy was probably getting work down on the cauldron issue, Bill was asleep in the rocking chair in the corner, Fred and George were in the sitting room, huddling over something, and Ron was bouncing up and down in his chair, waiting for breakfast. I stared at Ron blankly until he stopped. I heard Ginny and Hermione's voices crescendo as they made their way down the stairs. With a flourish, Molly floated the breakfast items to the table and called for Percy. I guessed Arthur was at the Ministry getting some work done in preparation for the Cup.

We tore through breakfast. I didn't even notice that my parents were gone.

"Where're Mum and Dad?" I asked.

"They went to Diagon Alley to get your school stuff," Arthur replied through his newspaper and a bite of eggs.

"Li'il early birds they are," I said groggily.

The rest of the day, Hermione and I helped Molly Weasley clean and pack. Chatter filled the Burrow as the day waned on. Too soon Arthur came back from work and announced, "Boys! It's time to pick Harry up!" Feet thundered down the stairs. Fred and George emerged. There was no Ron.

"Boys, where's Ronald?" asked Arthur.

"Taking a nap," replied Fred and George in unison.

"Then wake him up!" shouted Mr. Weasley.

We heard an explosion, some shouting, and in no time Fred and George came downstairs, Ron in tow. Mrs. Weasley looked bewildered at them: they were covered in ashes and smelled like fireworks. Molly scolded them and cleaned them up with a wave of her wand. By then, they were already late. They quickly hurried to the fireplace and transported via the Floo Network. Harry would be here soon.


End file.
